Blood Moon (Skye Morrison Vampire Series, #5.5) (21 page)

BOOK: Blood Moon (Skye Morrison Vampire Series, #5.5)
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   It’s been over a week since Lazarus and his small coven were able to retrieve the hard drives from Agent Simmons and properly destroy them. They properly destroyed Agent Simmons as well. Lazarus was able to glean the location of the computer man that helped Agent Simmons from the agent's mind as he fed from him.

   The group waits in the desert a few hundred meters from the trailer. They can see the computer man sitting in a chair outside the front door. He is drinking from a bottle. Earlier they watched his children as they did their evening chores. Lazarus was transfixed by the oldest. It was her! After all this time it was her. She had the same raven hair, the same pert nose, and the same eyes. However, this girl's face was smooth and pleasant, unworn by time and sorrow. This girl's step was light and bouncy, where the other girls gait was tired and plodding. This girl was a few years younger. This girl was human instead of vampire.

   Lazarus couldn't be sure of what he was seeing. Even he admits that sometimes he sees what he wants to see. This isn't even his original reality. What is reality? Is it what you believe or what you perceive? They have been watching the trailer for days, hiding nearby in abandoned structures during the day. Lazarus gathers his coven and prepares them to leave. They do not question him. They wouldn't dare. They would be back, he assured them. They would be back once he figured out what’s going on in his head.

   Tom never explained to his family why they moved so suddenly to the mountains. 'We needed a change.' was all he would say. They now lived in a mostly intact two story house. They farmed and raised live stock. Life was harder. Water was always in short supply. It was farther from town which meant people ventured out their way less often to trade. The oldest daughter grew prettier as the months wore on. Her father spent long hours just staring into the woods, a worried look on his face. He could almost feel them.

   Lazarus watches the house from the woods. It was eerie how the computer man, Tom, would stare at him. It was almost as if he could see him.

   "It's time. We get her tonight," Lazarus tells his small band of followers when he returns to the abandoned mine they have been sheltering in for months. They have been careful with their hunting, but the few remaining people in this area are getting scared.

   "What’s the plan, Lazarus?" asks Isaac, always the bold one.

   "I turn her. That's the plan," Lazarus replies.

   "What about the rest of her family?" the female vampire, Aletha, asks her master.

   "What about them? Just save her father. For her first meal," Lazarus replies.

   They kill the dogs first. The round up the two younger children and the parents and gather them in the living room. Lazarus sends Aletha up stairs to get the girl.

   '...and so it begins,' the thinks as Aletha throws the struggling girl to the floor in front of him. Aletha grabs her brother and buries her face in this throat as he begins to scream.

   He grabs her face roughly and stares intently into her eyes. He combs through her mind but finds no memory of himself. How can this be? Is his recollection of her just a figment of his damaged mind?

   "Don't be afraid," he says to her. 'Welcome to your future!"

   He smiles at her, his fangs slowly descending and locking into place.

   She begins to scream.

The End

www.bedtimetalesfromtheapocalypse.com

History of Fire

(A Dark Faerie Tale Novel)

 

 

Alexia Purdy

 

 

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. If you did not buy this e-book, please purchase your own copy.

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.

 

History of Fire

A Dark Faerie Tale Novel

Copyright © August 2014 Alexia Purdy

Cover Design by Alexia Purdy

Model Photography by CJC Photography: Christopher John

Model: Jona Frederick-Fritchie Light-Cali

All rights reserved

 

Prologue

The Pyren

 

“What is this place?” I peered around, studying the countless magical artifacts. I never knew my mother had this hidden sanctuary deep under our home. She forgot about it herself for seventeen years due to a memory charm placed on her by her faery husband, causing her to forget everything magical about herself and forget all about him to keep her safe. She just recently recalled its existence along with the rest of her unique elemental magical talents.

“It’s our Pyren Sanctuary. Only witches, warlocks or sorcerers of elemental magic have them. It’s a safe haven, hidden from the world in which we hide all the magic history of our family. It passed down to me since I’m an elemental witch and Evie was more of fey blood. It contains all the history of our fire element, back through hundreds of years. Every weapon and every spell our family has ever wielded is housed here. My mother brought all of this from her old Pyren when we moved here.”

Anna’s eyes scanned the enormity of the collection occupying every nook and cranny of the room. I didn’t even have any snarky words left to describe the brilliance of it. Piles of grimoires filled every desk and hard surface, stacked to the ceiling in precarious towers. Weapons and artifacts were arranged neatly around the room on mismatched shelves and desks. The whole place vibrated with the energy crawling across every object.

“What do you do with it all?” Anna reached for a long, polished birch wood staff with a large, dull, turquoise sea glass rock affixed to the tip. Jade, our mother, didn’t stop her, but watched with an elated expression lighting up her face as her daughter touched the staff. It was simple, yet sleek and beautiful. Anna curled her fingers around the age-worn wood and watched the cool blue-green stone begin to glow softly, illuminating her face with its eerie warmth.

“It’s humming under my skin.” Anna glanced at Mom, hoping it wasn’t a bad sign. I could feel its magic reaching towards me, too, but I stepped back. It felt strange, like crawling bugs testing my skin with their antennae.

“The staff of Aednat likes you,” Mom said. “That’s a good sign. It could recoil from your touch if you weren’t worthy to use it.” She winked, even though Anna’s complexion paled at the information.

I looked away and studied the array of parchments laid out in a messy pile across a dark wooden desk next to some of the stacks of grimoires. There wasn’t any dust in the room, leading me to believe it had been enchanted. Mom was a powerful fire elemental witch, not only talented with the wielding of fire but with all kinds of natural earth energies. I held the same such talent coursing through my body, but I had a lot of catching up to do on training. Still, I was a rare natural born fire warlock.

“Benton.” Mom motioned me over, pulling me away from some indecipherable scrolls. I couldn’t read the ancient text and wondered if I’d ever learn to do so. I hoped Mom could read them.

“Yes?” I approached her and waited as she pulled a long pleat of linen off a rack of weapons. It was definitely my turn to gawk at the arrangement of intricate swords and unusual blades. At the top of the rack laid the wickedest-looking device I’d ever seen. It was a sword, sort of. Its blade was blue steel, curved and seemingly fragile in width, but the hilt was woven with a simple design of metal-wrapped leather for a grip. The blade was thin and sharp and looked brittle, as if it could shatter if I tapped it on any kind of hard surface.

“This is yours.” She removed the same sword I’d been entranced by and held it out to me. It looked light enough for her to wield it without difficulty. Too light, I thought.

“A sword?”

“Not just any sword.” Mom’s eyes twinkled as it slowly lit up when her fingers touched the blade. “It’s an Empyrean blade. Only fire elementals can wield it, and that’s only temporary unless you’re born to use it.” She held it out and encouraged me to take it. “Come on, it won’t burn you.”

“It looks a bit… fragile.”

Mom laughed, and her smile made me feel foolish for underestimating the power of this slender blade. I was constantly reminded to not take things for granted. “It does. But it’s made of the strongest metal ever forged by magic. It will never break, bend, or fail you. It’s tied to our family by blood. Anyone may use it briefly, but we must return it to the Pyren before each full moon unless its true owner uses it. Then they may keep it on their person wherever they go, until they die.”

I furrowed my brows as I accepted the intricate blade into my hands. It was light but felt substantial enough that I could swing it about and not feel like it would fly out of my fingers. The grip was cool under my skin, and I could feel the energy rumbling through it as it turned into an extension of my own fire power. I hadn’t expected to feel it fuse to my aura, and I dropped it from the shock it had sent through me when it latched on. I stared at my hands in horror, expecting to see my skin melting off.

It was intact and lacked blisters. Completely unharmed.

“What was that?”

“You’re the first male child born to my line in over three hundred years, Benton. It calls to your magic. You’re meant to wield it.” Mom picked it off the floor and held it out to me again. “It does no such thing for me when I hold it. Nor would it for Anna or even Shade. It was made only for you or James, a male of our family bloodline.”

I took the blade once more and let the sensation creep up my arms toward my center once more. It felt good, and after a few minutes, it felt as though it had always been a part of me.

“Wow, that’s awesome!” I grinned and took the sheath from Mom. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a plain dark wood. It covered the brilliance of the fire sword as I slid the sword into it, snuffing out the flames.

“Yes, they are impressive. I’ve only seen three other Empyrean blades, and that was when I was younger than you are now.” Mom turned to my sister, still smiling. “By the way, there is only one staff of Aednat, made by our family centuries ago.”

“Is it mine? Can I use it?” Anna reached up to touch the smooth sea glass.

“Yes. It was supposed to be Evie’s, but her faerie blood would not allow her to use it. So it goes to the youngest daughter of the family.”

Anna smiled lovingly at the staff and rubbed her fingers together from the buzz coming off the wood, wrinkling her nose up like it tickled. “Thank you. What does it do?”

“It amplifies your powers. It will boost any spell you cast. It also offers you the use of fire under water. Because of the jewel of Aednat, the sea glass gem on there, no water can extinguish your fire.”

“Cool!”

“And this blade? Is it more than just a weapon?” I asked, holding it up and pulling the sword out a little again to inspect the blade, finding small swirls and writing etched onto the metal. “What’s the writing mean? It’s like the writing in the scrolls, but I can’t read it.”

“It’s an ancient language called Dtaia. Its origins are unknown, and it’s older than Sanskrit. It’s said that the original elemental people of the earth spoke and wrote it, but now it’s a dead language.” Mom peered down at the writing before looking over at the scrolls. “The sword is part of you now. It will heed your call, no matter how far away you are from it.”

“Wow, that’s wicked!” I put the sword away once more as a huge smile lit up my face. “So, how do you read these scrolls? They can’t be as old as the earth.” I lowered my eyes to the table of scrolls.

“No, there are a few who can read it. My mother taught me and Evie some before she died, but her knowledge was limited, too. No one in our family has read these scrolls in over five hundred years.”

“How did they not disintegrate? They’re so old.” Anna’s curiosity brought her sniffing around the ancient parchment, but she didn’t dare touch them, afraid of their delicate nature.

“They are enchanted and protected.”

“And the books? What are they for?” I stared at the piles of tomes, wondering why we would keep personal diaries of witches and warlocks centuries old.

“That’s the other reason I brought you here. It’s time to catch up on homework.”

“What?” Anna and I chimed together, a look of surprised disgust crossing our faces.

“Like… study these things?” I said.

Mom smiled, and a wicked spark flashed in her eyes. “Yep, exactly. They tell us everything about our kind and more. Every spell spoken by our family is written in these books.”

“What about Shade? And James? Don’t they have to slave away reading this stuff, too?” Anna wrinkled her nose as she reached over and flipped open the front cover of the grimoire nearest her.

“Shade is more faery than elemental, and busy with things in Faerie. I’m personally training James right now. I trust when you’ve learned everything here, you will share it with her and James.” Mom motioned for me to drop my weapon and join Anna on the books. “Come on. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like the world is over tomorrow.”

“You don’t know that. Time must never be wasted.” The pain in Mom’s eyes as she spoke made me worry for a moment before I flipped open one of the grimoires to study the hash marks of writing within. A glance at Anna told me she hadn’t seen the foreboding concern in our mother’s momentary lapse, which was probably a good thing. Since Shade was the oldest and busy in the land of Faerie, taking care of problems only Faery royals had, I knew it was up to me to protect my younger siblings. The thought left me feeling cold and lonely.

“I’ll make dinner, and when I’m done, you can take a break to eat.” Mom turned to leave through the hidden door which led into this chamber from the basement. Watching her leave left a nervous knot the size of a boulder in my stomach. The rustle of paper from my sister reminded me to return to the pages, and I began to read about the history of a fire elemental named Brendan, apparently my great, great, great uncle who’d sailed across the seas to find a new world and discover magic untold.

Lost to the world, in a place full of new potential and new magic, I followed my uncle’s musings until Mom returned and beckoned us back to the real world of trivial things such as dinner and high school homework.

 

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